


Morning Love

by Eien_Ni



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Cliffhanger, F/M, Morning Love - Freeform, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eien_Ni/pseuds/Eien_Ni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was going to die. Her hands trembled, and she fought against the rising panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She had to keep a clear mind. Otherwise, she’d never make it out of here alive. She drew in a shuddering breath and slowly turned to face him.</p>
<p>A continuation of Ian Bohen's short video 'Morning Love' with Holland Roden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Love

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Ian Bohen for giving me permission to write this! Honestly, every time I watched 'Morning Love' I drove myself crazy trying to think of how it ended. I thought of at least two possibilities, and from those two possibilities I could think of at least three endings for each.
> 
> Another thank you to my friends who read this over for me and put up with my freaking out. You are all awesome!
> 
> I took creative liberty with the names I used because in the video, no names are given. Actually, there's no talking at all, but that just makes it even better, I think.
> 
> I highly suggest watching the video before reading this, so for those of you who need to see it, it can be found [here](http://vimeo.com/33744167).

She was going to die.

Her hands trembled, and she fought against the rising panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She had to keep a clear mind. Otherwise, she’d never make it out of here alive. She drew in a shuddering breath and slowly turned to face him.

“I was really hoping that you wouldn’t find that,” he said. His voice was calm, if a bit disappointed, but too calm for someone who had just caught his lover snooping around in his closet. Especially if said closet contained a chest of guns and knives.

“Who are you?” her own voice cracked.

He just smiled. “Come now, I would have thought you’d be smarter than that, Miss Holland Roden.”

Green eyes widened, and her face paled before she could school her expression into something more confused than fearful. “I-I don’t know who that is,” she tried, but she knew it was a lost cause. He was shaking his head and chuckling. He wasn’t fooled.

“Just because you change your name, haircut, and clothing style doesn’t mean that you’re safe from us, Holland.”

A beat went by, then another. “I’m guessing your name isn’t really Peter Hale, then.”

“Not any more than your real name is Lydia Martin.”

“How did you find me?” she questioned.

“It was fairly easy. The beauty shop you work for recently got a facebook page. And I’m assuming from the look on your face that you didn’t know that, nor did you know that they uploaded your picture to the page as an employee.”

“So when you came in for a haircut, you were just scoping it out to make sure that I was really Holland Roden,” she said.

He nodded. “I know all about you, what you did in the past and what you do now. Which is why I have to do this,” he raised his right arm and leveled a gun at her head.

She stared at him, mouth open in disbelief. “That’s my gun,” she said haltingly. “You went through my purse.”

“Sorry about that. I would have used one of my own, but I hadn’t expected you to find them so soon. And since you were in there, I couldn’t just come in and ask for you to hand me one. That would have ruined the surprise. Although you managed to do that anyway,” he sighed. “This really wasn’t the way I wanted to do this.”

“You were making breakfast. And you left me a toothbrush and toothpaste,” Holland spoke. Her eyes narrowed. “You were going to poison me?”

He laughed. “Oh, God no. Poison is mainly used by women. And have you forgotten that I know all about you, Holland? Your specialty was poison, so I assumed you’re immune or have antidotes to almost every kind of poison. Just like I assumed you’d have coated your gun in a poison of some kind.”

Holland’s gaze flicked to the gun, noticing for the first time that a cloth was wrapped around the handle and trigger, protecting his skin. “I’m not a poison specialist anymore. I’m just a normal citizen, with no access to that kind of thing.”

“Now you and I both know that’s not true, Holland,” not-Peter said. “Even though you no longer work for us, you still have all of that knowledge that you can use. And I have no doubt that you could find a way to get certain supplies, what with that pretty face of yours.”

Her cheeks burned, and her tone sharpened in anger. “You can keep your compliments to yourself.”

“That’s not how I remember it being last night,” he replied.

She snapped her mouth shut. “Go to hell,” she spat through clenched teeth.

“I’m sure I will someday, but today is your turn,” he waved the gun slightly, but still kept it trained on her. “Now, if you would please come out of the closet. I would rather not have blood spray and brain matter on my clothes.”

Holland tensed, glancing at his hand holding the gun. She pressed her fingertips against the chest, feeling for the lid. In one quick movement, she yanked it open, grabbed the knife, and dove to the right. Hangers stabbed her in the ribs, but it was nothing compared to the burning pain she felt in her left arm. She couldn’t think about that right now, though. He still had the gun, and all she had was a knife, since his guns weren’t loaded. If she didn’t focus now, then the next bullet would end up in her head.

Righting herself, Holland lunged forward. She heard another bullet whiz by her head and lodge somewhere in the wall. Before he could get one more shot off, she tackled him hard. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, the back of his head connecting with the floor. She pressed the knife to his neck even as he lifted the gun back to her temple.

“Nice try,” he murmured, his smile widening to show perfect white teeth.

She maintained a neutral expression. The gun slid a little lower, almost touching her ear. “We’re still at a stalemate,” she replied calmly. “I can slice your throat wide open.”

“Not if I shoot you first,” not-Peter laughed, the sound loud in the room. He frowned as his hand fell away from her head. “What the...”

Now it was Holland’s turn to smirk, and she quickly grabbed his wrist and pinned it down, then did the same to his other arm with her knee. Tossing the knife to the side, she removed the gun from his now loose grasp. “What were you saying about shooting me first?” she questioned, green eyes twinkling in triumph. He laughed, and she couldn’t stop the small shiver that coursed down her spine. She loved his laugh. 

“Very good,” he praised her. “Are you going to tell me your secret, or will I have to guess?”

“I’m a poison specialist,” Holland replied. “I don’t need a gun to kill people.”

“The bullets were blanks, then,” he mused. “And how did you manage to paralyze me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Holland murmured. “I can’t spill all of my secrets. But you won’t be able to move for at least an hour.”

“At least I have a nice view,” he grinned when Holland’s grip tightened on his arm.

She growled, “Shut up. You’re in no position to be making comments like those.”

“I’m in the perfect position, actually,” he corrected her. He was obviously amused by her failed attempt to keep herself from blushing.

Holland released him, then dragged her leg slowly and deliberately over the lower part of his body so that she was no longer straddling him. She tapped the gun against his cheek. “Okay, smartass. Time to finish this.”

“You won’t shoot me,” he said nonchalantly. “No, I suppose that’s not entirely correct. You _can’t_ shoot me.”

“Why can’t I? You know as well as I do that blanks can still kill a person if shot at close range. I have a loaded gun pointed at your head, so I don’t see how-”

“Because you love me.”

She recoiled backwards and stared at him incredulously. “That’s absurd,” she said, even as her heart clenched tightly.

“My mistake, then,” not-Peter mused. “Go ahead and shoot me then.”

Licking her lips, Holland readjusted her grip on the gun and lined it up with his forehead. Her finger touched the trigger. He watched her, his expression calm and collected as if his life wasn’t being threatened.

“Okay,” she breathed. She could do this. She knew she could. Although she’d mainly used poison to kill her targets, she’d occasionally had to use a gun. It was messier, but it still got the job done. All she had to do was pull the trigger, and that would be it. He would be dead, and she wouldn’t have to worry about him any longer.

Holland shifted her weight on her knees. She had to do this. He was a threat. He’d been sent to kill her, and if she hadn’t been fast enough earlier, she would be dead right now. She had trouble keeping the gun steady. Her fingers were shaking. Her entire body was, to be honest. High on adrenaline and fear.

Not-Peter was still staring at her, and she found herself drowning in his eyes. She couldn’t help but remember last night, how those same eyes had sparkled as she’d leaned over him. Her gaze traveled to his lips, and she swore she could feel them on her skin, feel his hot breath against her neck as he told her over and over how beautiful she was.

“Judging from the fact that I’m still alive, I’m going to assume that I was right,” he said softly, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Shut. Up,” she gritted out.

“You’re getting defensive, Holland. You don’t need to lie to yourself.”

“I am not lying to myself. I don’t love you,” she tilted her chin up.

“Then shoot me since you don’t love me.”

“I am.”

“That’s not shooting, Holland. That’s hesitating. And you know why you’re hesitating.”

“Shut up,” her voice was quiet, and it wavered. Tears were forming in her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously.

“Because like it or not, you love me. Somewhere along the way, you fell in love,” not-Peter whispered.

“Shut up.”

“You let yourself trust me, even though you were on the run and knew that a serious relationship would only end in disaster. On our first date, you told me that you hadn’t dated in years, that you weren’t good with that kind of thing. Yet you gave it a try. And you felt yourself becoming more and more attached, but did nothing to stop it. You didn’t break it off with me because deep inside, you yearned for this. You wanted someone to love you, to need you, to hold you. And that someone was me.”

“Please, shut up,” she choked out. There was no hiding her tears anymore. They slid down her cheeks, but she didn’t brush them away, instead choosing to keep the gun and her focus locked on him.

“You know that what I say is the truth, Holland,” he said gently. “It will be so much easier if you just accept it. You’ve fallen in love with the assassin sent to kill you.”

“Shut up!” she screamed. She reared her hand back, gun clenched tightly in her fist, and hit him with it. The last thing she saw before his eyes closed was a glint of satisfaction.

Holland dropped the gun and covered her face in her hands. Quiet sobs racked her shoulders, and she bent over, trying to regain control of her emotions and breathing. Within a few minutes, her breathing evened out, and she raised her head to stare at not-Peter’s face. He looked like he could be sleeping, were it not for the blood trickling down the side of his face.

Speaking of blood...

She glanced down at her left arm, which was beginning to sting and burn more now that the danger had passed. The bullet had luckily just grazed her. She could patch this up herself when she got home.

Holland bit her lip to stifle a sob. She had no home anymore. She had to move again, and she had to do it fast. She had no idea if not-Peter was supposed to meet up with someone after his job was completed.

That thought spurred her into action, and she jumped to her feet. She went first to the bathroom, ransacking his cabinets until she found some gauze, and she hastily wrapped it around her bleeding wound. Then she returned to the bedroom and yanked off his shirt, not caring that a tiny button popped off and rolled away. She grabbed her dress and pulled it on. She hissed when she jarred her arm.

Holland bent over to pick up her shoes and paused upon seeing the knife resting beside them. A split second later, she whirled around and headed to the closet. She scanned the shelves and located an empty wheeled suitcase, then opened the gun case up and shoved the guns into the bag. She retreated back to the bedroom and put the knife in as well before zipping it up. She let go of the suitcase and began to pace. Should she do something else before leaving? Maybe she could find out who he really was.

She scoured the room for any clues, pulling open drawers and throwing the items to the floor. His cell phone was on the nightstand, but the only contact listed was her number. She tossed it on the floor in frustration then sank onto the bed.

Not-Peter was lying there, showing no signs of waking up anytime soon. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Tears blurred her vision again. It had all been a lie. Every single word he had spoken, every single thing he had done. They had been empty words and actions, their only purpose to lull her into a false sense of security so that he could worm his way into her heart. And she’d fallen for it all. A half-hysterical laugh bubbled from her lips. He’d been right, though.

She loved him.

Holland swiped angrily at the moisture on her cheeks and stood. She had to leave now. She’d wasted enough time as it was. Hurriedly going back to his closet, she took a few ties and tied them together, then tied him up. It was a quick job, but it should hopefully buy her a few extra minutes. Slipping on her shoes, she grabbed the bag and her purse. With one final glance at not-Peter, she moved towards the door. Her car was at her house, but she couldn’t risk going back for it. For all she knew, there was someone waiting for her there in case she survived not-Peter’s attack. She’d have to use his car for now and abandon it the first chance she got.

She put the suitcase in the back seat and slid into the driver’s seat. She drew in a shaky breath as she turned the car on. She took a moment to compose herself before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway.

She’d have to run farther this time and make sure to cover her tracks thoroughly. If they found her once, they could find her again. She would have to be more vigilant and careful. She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. This was far from over. Not-Peter would wake up, and he would be furious. He’d be relentless in his pursuit of her from this point on and would show no mercy. Their hide-and-seek game would only end when one of them was dead.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete for now, although I do have another part to it planned out in case I want to add to this.


End file.
